


Blessing in Disguise

by queen_scribbles



Series: Astrid Hawke Canon [6]
Category: Dragon Age II
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-04
Updated: 2017-07-04
Packaged: 2018-11-23 10:06:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,225
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11400363
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/queen_scribbles/pseuds/queen_scribbles





	Blessing in Disguise

She'd always been a light sleeper.

Growing up, that had been far more of a curse than anything else. Jolting awake every time Bethany's footsteps creaked across the floor in search of water, or spending twenty minutes getting back to sleep whenever Carver snored exceptionally loud was _not_ her idea of how to get a good night's rest.

But tonight, for once, Astrid was inclined to view it as a blessing. She'd never have heard the window open otherwise. Never would have caught the stealthy whisper of leather against the stone sill. Not until it was too late. Her fingers curled around the grip of the dagger under her pillow, but she lay still, waiting to see what the intruder would do.

This was not the first time someone had come after her. Despite the lofty 'Champion of Kirkwall' title, despite the mass call for her leadership, there were a few among Kirkwall's nobility who balked at the idea of the viscount's crown on a Fereldan head--let alone a Fereldan apostate's. But this was the first time an assassin had infiltrated her bedchamber. She couldn't help but wonder if that had anything to do with this being the first time in over a month she'd managed to convince Fenris to take the night off.

 _Hopefully not_ , Astrid grimaced, knowing either way there'd be no living with him or Aveline after this.

From experience she knew not to let the attackers actually lay hands on her, but she let them get awfully close. She had to, for the burst of lightning she unleashed as she rolled out of bed to be the most effective. Clutching her dagger in one hand and letting a flame grow around the other, she faced her attackers.

Dwarves. Which meant that the lightning had only served as a flash grenade of sorts, nothing more. They were too magic-resistant for an undirected blast to do much damage. Hopefully, however, the flash had alerted someone.

The first of the dwarves to recover came at her, sword swinging in angry, half-blind arcs. She sent a lump of rock almost as big as her head careening into his chest and knocked him back. He collided hard with the vanity table and Astrid heard the mirror shatter. _So who gets the seven years' bad luck, me or him?_

"Come, my brothers! We need the blood of the Hawke!" another dwarf bellowed, forgoing stealth to rally the other two who were still on their feet. They circled, trying to box her in. Until she swept her hand in a gathering motion that plucked them all from the ground like puppets before slamming them forcefully down again. One didn't get up. Which kept her odds the same as the first attacker freed himself from the wreckage of her vanity table.

She could hear the hue and cry in the hallway; shouts of "My lady!" and "Astrid!" only partially muffled by the thick wooden door. _Oh, no._ **He's** _up. Cue one lecture about how we'd be safer in the viscount's old wing, it's more protected..._

"Hurry, my brothers! We must not fail!" the apparent leader cried.

To buy herself a few more seconds, the mage flung her free arm in an awkward half-circle. A haphazard line of icicles sprang up between her and the dwarves. Two of them set to work smashing it with their maces immediately. Just before they broke all the way through, her door slammed open, several men silhouetted in the light from the hallway.

With cries of dismay, the dwarves broke off their attack and retreated toward the window. The last one turned back before making his escape. "We'll return for the blood of the Hawke--"

Astrid's dagger buried itself in his eye socket as the mage silently thanked Isabela for insisting on giving her throwing lessons.

"Nice one, love," Sebastian commented admiringly as guards with torches swept into the room. "I never knew you could do tha'."

"I've never had cause," Astrid replied with a shrug as she skirted the melting icicles. "I--Are you _bleeding_?!"

The rogue raised one hand to his hairline, eyebrows rising when his fingers came away red. "Apparently so."

Astrid was across the room in an instant, green eyes wide with worry. "They were in your room, too?"

"Aye." Sebastian gamely held still as she traced faintly glowing fingers along the gash. "What in th' blazes could they want with you?"

"Damned if I know," Astrid shrugged helplessly. Finished with healing that injury, she set about checking him for more. "My blood. But I've no idea why. Hold _still_."

The archer gave a familiar long-suffering sigh and spoke to the guards. "You can go now."

"But ser--" one began.

"I'm fairly certain the danger is past," Sebastian interrupted. "And if no', your viscountess and I are perfectly capable of handling it."

The guard seemed on the verge of protesting further, but the extra edge to Sebastian's brogue discouraged that. Instead the trio nodded and left, offering assurances that they would be right outside if needed.

Sebastian thanked them on behalf of their preoccupied viscountess and waited until the door closed behind them before addressing his fiancee. "Astrid. Astrid, I'm _fine_ , love."

"Fine, the man says," she snorted, hand pressed against his bicep. "Is this adrenaline, or do you just not feel pain?" Se pulled her hand away briefly, so he could see the ugly gash slicing across his arm. "That doesn't look fine to me, Sebastian Vael."

"You know I've had worse," he pointed out, letting her finish healing before taking her hands in his. "It's no' tha' bad, and b'sides, I was more worried abou' you."

"Sweet of you," Astrid muttered, eyes glued to the scars on his chest, most of which he hadn't had when they first met. "I'm fine, I swear. Just shaken up." She glanced over at the dwarven corpses and amended, "Shaken and _confused_. What's so special about my blood?"

"You mean aside from it carrying an uncommon amount of courage? I'm not sure, but you could have Varric look into it for you," Sebastian suggested, recapturing her attention. "Surely one of his, ah, sources can find out _something_."

"Good idea, love," Astrid nodded. "We'll pay him a visit later. See what he can find out. I don't need this happening again." Her eyes flicked to the faint new scar on the rogue's arm.

He released one of her hands in order to brush dark hair out of the way and pressed a gentle kiss to her forehead. "It shan't. Don't worry abou' me so."

Rather than reclasp his hand, Astrid pressed forward, snuggling close to his chest. "It better not. I still need you, _Prince_ Vael."

"No' quite there yet, darlin'," Sebastian chuckled softly, wrapping his arms around her shoulders. "Baby steps. First we deal with this new Carta threat, _then_ we'll worry about Starkhaven."

"Good plan," she concurred, mumbling the words against his skin. "We'll do that."

And she would. But there wasn't much that could be done for now, so after shifting to a different room--Sebastian obstinately and 'non-negotiably' settling in a chair as added protection-- she climbed into bed. She knew she would sleep even lighter than usual now, but maybe that wasn't such a bad thing.

After all, it had already proven a blessing in disguise tonight.


End file.
